The Spider's Touch
::'Drakesreach Sierra ' ---- ::The Drakesreach Sierra: A rugged range of rocky hills that feature an irregular and jagged profile, distinguished by the ashen rise of the snow-tipped Dragonspine Mountains to the far north, and the transformation of rolling plains into more somber auburn grasslands and bleaker lapidarian terrain that stretches between the foot of the mountain range to the north, the lush Verdigris Forest to the south, the crystal waters of the Jadesnake to the west, and the dry lowlands to the east. ::Aubern becomes granite as smoothly as night becomes day upon the higher flats of the Drakesreach Sierra; the harsh grasses and the thorny brush give way to firmer rocky soil, and the shade of ashen sweeps over the ground below, the stones that crunch underfoot offering a bleak yet welcoming change from the uphill trek. ---- White tents have sprung up against the dark rock of the mountains, and a handful of campfires burn brightly among them. Blackfox slips off of Velvel's back and crouches in the scrub, the great wolf lying flat beside her. With a hand on the lupine's shoulder, she has the wolf stay put before looking over to Bloodstone. She points to herself and then points east, then back to him and pointing west, turning then to head eastward. Bloodstone had Crimson slow his pace sometime before even coming remotley near whatever it was he wanted to investigate. Dropping quietly off the wolf, the hooded one makes a silent command to wolf starting to make the rest of trek on foot, moving a half walk/run, still hunch over to keep his size as small as possible. Crimson seems to get the idea, the wolf also lowering himself in stealthy stalking walk. He takes a knee catching sight of Fox in the darkness. The only motion he gives her is nod in acknowlegement before he and his wolf quietly move off to the west. The fires continue to burn cheerily, with no real sight of anything utilizing the tents or fires. Blackfox continues to skirt the encampment, looking for some sign of movement or life of any sort, glancing up at the sky as well. Bloodstone moves off to encircle the encampment from a westerly direction, making a wide arc around, making sure to stay in the shadows. He too looks for any sign of life, even taking a moment to feel at the ground or look for some kind of tracks with what little light he has availible. Slight movements can be seen here and there, but it's difficult to tell exactly what they are at this distance in the dark. Blackfox creeps a bit closer but then tries to find a place to settle into to watch, waiting patiently for further movement and seeing if it will come to her rather than risk entering the camp itself. It would be foolish to step inside the more lit areas of the encampment, as any Hunter could tell you its much harder to see things out into the darkness than for whoever is looking. Bloody uses this knowlege as best as one can, giving a silent signal for Crimson to stay where he is while the hooded one moves a bit closer, crouching down to a knee to take a bit of cover behind a handful of bushes. He too watches and waits to see if whatever it is thats moving about decides to give itself a better view. It is truly difficult to see more signs of life than flickers crossing a flame without getting too close, though the occasional sound of skittering can be heard. Blackfox frowns and lies down, hugging the earth and using the rocks and scrub to shield the light as much as she can while bringing her eye to ground level. Bloodstone stays hunkered down, not about to move anywhere for the moment, deciding not to risk getting closer than he already is. He doesn't mind waiting for as long as it takes to get a good glimpse at what these movements are. The movements become a bit more clear as short creatures, about a foot tall each. Blackfox frowns with worry, then, as she spots the creatures, giving a sharp chirp of warning, a nightbird's call from one scout to another. Bloodstone eyes the figures through the darkness, a dark scowl crossing his features. He waits a few moments to return the chirp of acknowlgement, the moment of hesitation given to give it a more natural feel. A few of these spider-like creatures appear to have managed to flank Bloodstone, with two spread far out behind him, and two approaching from the camp, fairly far apart, in front of him. Blackfox holds perfectly still, watching with worry but unable to help without giving herself away. The jig it seems, is up. Bloodstone frowns deeper seeing the two emerge from their tents. Something moves in the corner of the hooded man's eyes, giving him reason to carefully turn about half-way. He grits his teeth in a silent grimace, with a hand slowly dropping to the argentite scimitar, his gloved fingers curling around the blade's hilt. He hasn't drawn it yet, hesitating if these things mean to kill him or merley investigate. Either way, he'll be ready. Wether or not Fox gives away her position, its not going to matter; they already know someone's here. A few more of the spider creatures emerge from their tents, heading slowly towards the man. Apparently they told their friends. Slowly, ever so slowly, the circle begins to close in on Bloodstone, their tiny glowing blue eyes reflective in the moonlight. Blackfox can do nothing more than pray, trying to will him to run before it was too late, so slowly now backing away from the camp. It doesn't matter now, they see him. The hooded Hunter rises up to his full height, and in doing so, theres the draw of white argentite blade. Bloodstone studies them for a moment, giving a check to where all of these spide-things stand. Then he makes a breaks for it, taking off at a run through one of the gaps the creatures have not yet closed. As he runs he gives out a howl, a signal for Crimson. The howl is returned quickly which is followed by the thudding of paws. It doesn't take much for it to register in the wolf's mind that his friend is danger and as the man sprints towards him, the wolf giving off an unholy feral growl of warning or perhaps intimidation. The gap is quickly closed in an uncanny burst of speed, the tiny creatures almost flying across the landscape to put two of them between Bloodstone and the wolf. Still more pour out of the tents, now numbering over three dozen that move to descend upon the man. One springs from its position, forelegs outstretched as if to grab onto the man's sword arm. The acarit is deflected by a twist of Bloodstone's blade, bouncing off at high speed to land over fifteen feet away. "Get out of here Fox!!" Bloody bellows to wherever the female Huntress lies. He spins cleanly out of the way of the leaping spider-creature, bringing the blade down to bear on its head as it flies past in a swift arc. Wether or not the blow strikes, he doesn't wait to see the results, once again starting to spirit towards the growling Crimson. Far too many numbers to fight. The need to get away is clearly overpowering the want to fight. Blackfox continues to slowly move backwards, not wanting to attract any attention to herself, swallowing down the lump in her throat as she makes her way far enough to stand back up without being seen. The acarits continue to flank the man, swarming around him and like a deadly game of red rover, do not allow him through their ranks. Pit. Pik-pit-pit-pik. Pok. Like fat, ripe bubbles exploding in a soup pot, one by one, they spring with unearthly speed, seeking to grasp onto the man and bring him down with their sheer numbers. Bloodstone weaves back and forth trying shake up the creatures way of manuvering about him. The only thing he can do at this point besides running as fast as he can to get back to his mount is swing his sword at the nearest thing that moves. Three of the acarits manage to latch onto Bloodstone, two onto his sword arm, and one onto his left shoulder, while the other three sail past. Blackfox hides a fair distance away, watching from behind a tree. "Get off me, creature!" Bloodstone grunts, using his sword to scrape off the on his shoulder, then attempting pry another off his sword arm while he continues to run towards Crimson. One of the acarits manages to lose its legs as Bloodstone scrapes it off, and it plunks ineffectually on the ground. The circle moves like water, however, to accomodate the man, keeping him in its center. Acarits continue to fly towards him, popping from the ground to grasp at him. Three more acarits attach themselves to the man, attempting to weigh him down, bringing his total up to five. Three more whiff by as the encumbered man still manages to dodge. Still running, albeit a bit slower than he would be if he didn't have all this weight on him, Bloodstone continues to tear away at the acarits that latched onto his armor, using blade and empty fist to scrape and tear them off of his person. The group isn't quite as perfect in matching the man, breaking up slightly to create a gap which the man exploits. They continue to hop onto him as he passes, seeking to add their weight to the mix. And the horde descends. One, then another, then another latches onto Bloodstone, pulling him to one knee, and then to the ground. Like a greenish-black wave, like a chitin stampede they pile over him, until all that can be seen is a single, grasping hand, plaintively grasping to the night sky for a poignant moment. And then that one last moment of fight is gone. The arm is forced down, down into the skittering mass. And Bloodstone is seen no more. "Crimson! Go with Fox!!" Bloody struggles to yell at his wolf, an act that would only suggest that the Hunter is pretty sure he's not going to live to see sunrise. "Fox, get-" he's cut off short as wave of the spider creatures overwhelm him. Blackfox slips quietly back into the darkness, moving away from the camp to circle around and get back to Velvel, hoping Crimson would follow as she heads back to the Refuge. Category:Logs